Page 44 of Plus-Size Curves for the Bratva

He clutches his chest in mock hurt. "A stain? And here I thought I was more like a perfectly tailored suit."

"Keep dreaming," I tease, but warmth spreads through my chest at his supportive words. "You know," I add with a giggle, “I’m going to be super busy filling the orders I received today. So if you're going to hang around here so much, I might have to put you to work."

Denis’s eyes twinkle with amusement. "Is that so? And what position did you have in mind for me, Mrs. Zolotov?"

I suddenly feel a surge of current in the air between us as time stands still for the briefest of seconds. He just called me Mrs. Zolotov for the very first time, and hearing it on his lips reminds me of the fact thatI’m his.

He raises an eyebrow, all playful and goddamn handsome, as though he knows the effect he has on me. Before I inflate his ego a little too much, I better bring him back to earth.

I tap my chin, pretending to consider. "Hmmm… how about a professional mannequin? You've certainly got the brooding look down pat."

He chuckles, the sound sending an inexplicable warmth through me. "I'll have you know I'm an excellent multitasker. I can brood and fold clothes at the same time."

"Now that I'd pay to see," I tease, but there's a softness in my voice that surprises even me.

The easy banter between us tinged with a newfound intimacy wraps around me like a warm embrace. As Denis gives me a wink, I'm struck by how comfortable his presence has become. When did that happen? When did this intimidating man start to feel like… home?

Chapter 18 - Denis

I watch Natalia flit around her boutique, a spring in her step and a smile lighting up her face as she finishes up her closing chores. She's practically glowing today, radiating an infectious joy that doesn’t seem to dull since the moment I walked in.

I watch as her eyes suddenly light up like she’s thinking of something. She darts over to one of the clothing racks, rifling through the hangers until she pulls out a Hawaiian shirt covered in bright pink flamingos.

She turns to me with a grin, "By the way, I think I've found the perfect outfit for that vacation to Italy you still owe me."

I eye the shirt warily. "You can't be serious. Come on, Nat. I’m never going to wear that. Close up and let’s head home."

"Oh, but I am serious." She holds it up against my chest, her tongue poking out in concentration. "Yep, it's definitely your color. Come on, tough guy. Live a little!"

I'm torn between amusement and exasperation. Part of me wants to get her back home, but the playful gleam in Natalia's eyes makes it hard to resist. "You're unbelievable, you know that?"

She beams up at me. "That's why you love me."

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, even though I know she doesn't mean them the way I wish she did. I cover my reaction with a roll of my eyes.

Natalia's not deterred. She shoves the shirt into my hands. "Go on, try it on. I promise not to laugh… much."

I heave a dramatic sigh. "The things I do for you, Natalia." But as I head toward the dressing room, I can't quite hide my smile. I’m putty in her hands.

When I come back donning the shirt, she claps her hands in glee, literally jumping off her toes. “It’s perfect!”

"This shirt can’t beallthat exciting. Someone's really in a good mood today," I tease, walking closer to her. "The sales apart, did you win the lottery or something?"

Natalia bends down to reach into a small wicker basket and I hold back a groan at the sight of that perfectly curved ass jutting out in my line of sight. When she stands, her eyes sparkle with mischief and I notice a measuring tape in her hand. "I only gamble on fast cars now. Didn’t you know?" She gives me a wink.

I raise an eyebrow, amused by the memories that rush back from her birthday. “Whoa. I’ve created a monster.”

“Yes, but a monster you can't resist,” Natalia retorts with a wink, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger as she saunters closer. She moves with a grace that mesmerizes, her curves accentuated by the way her dress hugs her frame.

I try to maintain my composure, a smirk playing on my lips as she circles me like a predator closing in on prey. “What are you up to, Firecracker?” I ask, my voice coming out in a low growl.

With a sly grin, Natalia leans in close, her breath warm against my ear as she whispers, “Just taking some measurements so I can make this in your size.” Her fingers dance over my chest and down to my waist, sending shivers down my spine.

Her tone becomes softer, near-maddening with lust. “We want to make sure it fits perfectly, don't we?"

I raise an eyebrow, intrigued by this sudden shift. "I thought you said it was perfect already."

"Trust me," she murmurs, reaching for her measuring tape. Her fingers brush my arm as she positions herself in front of me, and I feel a jolt of electricity at the contact.

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